


Your Heart Is an Empty Room

by SuicideChild



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU - Human, Adam Is Hiding Something, Alcohol Abuse, And a Drinking Problem, Chuck Is a Deadbeat Dad, Depression, Drug Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Graphic Violence, Heavy BDSM, Infidelity, M/M, Michael Is Fucking Psychotic, Michael Is a Loathsome Bastard, Michael has anger issues, Murder, PTSD, Past Child Abuse, Rape/Non-con - Freeform, Spouse Abuse, Suicide Attempts, Talk of Suicide, Trust Issues, Unconventional Love, Unresolved Conflict, Violent Outburst, dark humour
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 17:55:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5549921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuicideChild/pseuds/SuicideChild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael has issues he isn't willing to address. He's depressed, he's unhappy with his marriage, he's got two free loading brothers, oh, and at this point, he really just doesn't care about a god damn thing. His seven year old daughter, Hael, is the only light in his life anymore, and when there's an accident, Michael's world comes crashing down around him. Which is when he meets his new therapist, Adam Milligan.<br/>And Dr. Milligan is definitely hiding something.</p><p>Make sure to read the tags for trigger warnings, and the notes at the beginning of each chapter for additional warnings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Heart Is an Empty Room

**Author's Note:**

> I have other fics that I should be updating.  
> I'm sorry.  
> I always get ideas at the worst times.
> 
>  **warnings**  
>  I have no warnings for this chapter.

Michael lingered after the funeral was done. He didn't want to face the people. Not with the knowledge that no one would even be here, mourning a loss if it wasn't for him... if he had only listened, none of this would have happened. He stayed in the cemetery until it was dark before he wandered up to the fresh grave. His stoic expression broke, and he crumbled, dropping to his knees in front of the tombstone. He choked back a quiet sob and rested his head against the cool slab of rock, "I'm so sorry... I should... I should have listened to you." He whispered. His fingers trembled around the curves of the stone.

"I'm sure he's already forgiven you, Michael." A small hand fell against Michael's shoulder, and he turned around to be met with kind hazel eyes.

Anna extended a hand to help Michael up, "Come on, you're getting all dirty." She said.

Michael shakily took her hand, "After everything I've done... why would he forgive me?" He whispered as he got up.

Anna gave his hand a sharp squeeze as she walked with him to her car, knowing that Michael had walked to the funeral, "He loved you Michael."

"He didn't. He was just scared of me." Michael protested.

Anna stopped abruptly, turning on Michael. She looked up into his eyes, her lips set in a thin frown, "Michael, he wouldn't have stayed if he was scared. He told me everything, and he loved you." She said.

Michael shook, unable to control it, "Everything..?" He choked out.

Anna nodded.

"Why don't you hate me?" Michael whispered.

"Because you made him happy." Anna said, turning and walking towards her car again, still holding Michael's hand.

Once they were in the car, Michael broke down into violent sobs, "I never wanted this to happen..." He whispered.

Anna rubbed his back as she started the engine, "It's okay, Michael." She said.

And that, for some reason, consoled Michael a little. It warmed him up inside, just a little, to know that after everything he had done, at least someone didn't hate him. He took Anna's hand again and squeezed it, "Thank you." He whispered.

Anna smiled sadly at him, "You're welcome, Michael. I promise that it will all get better."

Michael didn't believe that, but he smiled back, "You know that's a lie." He said.

"I know."

"So why did y-"

"Shut up, Michael."

"Alright."

And then is was just silence after that, the rest of the car ride home, except the radio. And as Michael sat there in the quiet, a happy thought crossed his mind. Everything would be all over soon. And he would never hurt anyone again.

With this thought in his head, he turned up the familiar song playing on the radio. Anna looked at him, smiling sadly. Of course she would know the song too.

Michael smiled back, drumming his fingers on the dashboard, listening to Anna sing along quietly. He joined after awhile, "Anywhere you go, I'll follow you down. Any place but those I know by heart."

◈

**_Four years earlier_ **

A pale fist smashed down on the alarm clock next to the bed. Michael felt his hand go through the shards of plastic as the beeping box crumbled like sand under the blow. A small, feminine body stirred next to Michael’s, sitting up. “Michael, I swear to god, if you broke another alarm clock...” Came the all too familiar voice that Michael once loved, but now sounded grating and shrill to his ears. The man simply groaned in response. Somewhere down the hall, he could hear his daughter, Hael, beginning to wake up, and somewhere beyond that, his youngest brother Gabriel was clinking around the kitchen.

“Just go make sure Gabriel doesn't blow up the kitchen." Michael growled. He didn't actually think that his brother would blow up the kitchen, he just needed Hannah to leave. He could hear her sigh, but didn't turn to look at her. He knew what she was doing, twisting the gold ring around her finger, as if reminding herself that she loves Michael... or at least that she used to. She married him, didn't she? Michael often felt the same way, except he had honestly become so god damn apathetic that it didn't even really bother him anymore.

He figured that at this point, the only reason he and Hannah were still together was because of Hael. That, and Hannah would be out on the street without Michael. Just like Lucifer would be, and just like Gabriel would be.

Honestly, however, he preferred his free loading brothers to his wife, which was a bit sad.

Once Hannah was gone, Michael dragged himself out of the tangle of sheets, dark hair sticking up, unruly in every direction. He looked at the broken alarm clock on his night stand, scowling at it as if the broken plastic caused all of the problems in his life. He trudged to the bathroom and turned on the shower, not bothering to look in the mirror. He already knew what he would find there. The ghost of the man that he used to be. After taking about seven minutes under the icy spray (Michael liked his showers cold), he dried himself off, put on his work clothes, a pair of stone grey slacks, a light blue button up, tucked into his waist line, held in place with a black leather belt, a royal blue tie, a matching stone grey blazer, and the ugliest pair of dress shoes that Michael had ever seen.

But he wore them anyways, because that's what was expected of him.

His seven year old daughter, Hael, ran up to greet him as soon as he walked into the kitchen, stretching her arms up towards him, "Morning, daddy!" She said happily, with an adorable smile that made Michael feel a little less worthless.

If there was one light in Michael's life, it was his daughter. She was his beam of sunshine cutting through an otherwise cloudy, grey sky.

He swept the little brunette up, and dropped a kiss down in her hairline, "How's my favourite girl?" He said, holding her against his side, not caring if it wrinkled his suit or not.

He smiled, his rare, genuine smile as Hael giggled, "Tired." She answered. "Uncle Gabriel made breakfast." She chimed happily.

Michael's gaze traveled to the small blonde man. He had prepared special breakfasts for all of them, just like he did every morning. Hannah was perched on a stool eating a fried egg sandwich and she had a mug of English Breakfast tea. She had been staring at him wistfully, and he could hear her wishing that he still smiled at her like he did at his daughter. Hael had a plate of crepes smothered in raspberry sauce and a glass of orange juice, for Michael, there was a bowl of oatmeal with sliced fruit and a cup of black coffee, Gabriel had made an omelet with green peppers, olives, mushrooms, and onions, with a glass of apple juice for Lucifer, and for himself, a huge plate of chocolate chip pancakes, drowned in syrup, and a mug of hot cocoa.

"Looks fantastic, Gabe." Michael said, setting Hael down so she could go finish her breakfast.  He popped an apple slice in his mouth and took a deep swig of coffee as he sat down to start on his oatmeal.

"Michael, you need to pick up a new alarm clock on your way home from work." Hannah chide as she ate her sandwich.

"He broke another one?" Lucifer asked as he walked into the kitchen.

"Put some clothes on, for the love of fuck, Luke!" Gabriel said.

"Watch your mouth." Lucifer retorted. He picked up his glass, and sat down. Michael looked up at him and saw that he was only wearing his boxers. Lucifer was not a morning person, and usually didn't even get dressed until he had to go into work at noon.

Gabriel and Lucifer fell into a casual bickering as they ate, which Michael easily tuned out. He finished off his breakfast, and stood up, taking his bowl and mug to the sink. "Thank you, Gabriel." He said. He left before his brother had a chance to respond, and headed off to work at the firm.

◈

Traffic, as usual, had been a bitch, so he got into work just in time. Raphael would probably behead him, or worse, if he was late one more time. That was something he didn't want. Though he didn't like his life, Hael would be not very well off without him around.

Work at the firm wasn't an awful thing, just tedious. And the people were all a nuisance. Rachel, the secretary (he probably hated her most of all), gave him her normal, fake, perky greeting as he walked into the tall building, "Morning, Mr. Cohen!" She chirped. Michael simply waved and took his coffee as she handed it to him. Raphael, his business partner, nodded a greeting his direction. Michael liked Raphael. She had no need for words, and that was good.

As Michael settled down in his chair, his phone rang. With a deep, irritated sigh, he picked it up. "Hello, you've got Cohen & Barnes Law Firm, this is Michael Cohen speaking." He said in a professional tone.

He groaned inwardly when a familiarly flustered voice on the other end greeted him, "Ah, uh, Michael, it's Castiel, er, Mr. Novak, I mean, could you come down to the third floor, there's been a bit of a mishap that needs your immediate attention." The man on the phone said.

"What happened?" Michael snapped.

"Well, uh, you see, Zachariah isn't taking too kindly to having been fired."

"Call security. Not me." Michael growled.

He could hear Zachariah, the man he had fired a week before, yelling in the background. Zachariah had been stealing money from the firm. He was lucky that Michael didn't call the cops.

"Well, sir, I think it would really be best if you came down here." Was the reply.

"Fine, Castiel, fine. I will be right down, because I have all the fucking time in the world!" Michael snapped, before slamming the phone down and getting up.

When he got down to the third floor, he almost wanted to shoot someone. Zachariah was standing on one of the desks, a bottle in hand, and was yelling and cursing at everyone.

When he saw Michael, he pointed a shaky finger in his direction, "And you- you're the worst of them!" He shouted.

Michael sighed and placed his hand on his hip, willing the older man to go on. He looked bored and uninterested in what the man had to say, but he would listen.

"You think that the people here are your slaves! You work us to the bone, and don't pay us nearly enough! That's why I was taking money! I was only paying myself the fair wage for what you put us through!" Zachariah shouted.

Before he could go on, Michael crossed the room in a few long strides, and forced Zachariah down of the table, taking the bottle from him, "You're absolutely right, Zachariah." He said calmly, gesturing for Castiel to call security, "However, you see, I don't give a single fuck about what you say, because you were nothing but a pawn that I had to give up, because you were bringing my company down." He continued, leading Zachariah towards the door. The older man looked confused. "So that's why next time you show up on the premises, Castiel here is going to call the fucking cops and I'm going to throw you in jail for embezzlement. Nod if you understand." When Zachariah didn't nod, Michael grabbed his hair and made him nod. "Great." He pushed him over to security, and brushed his hands off, still holding the bottle.

He stormed off, going back to his office, where Raphael was waiting for him, "Make it quick, please."

"What was that commotion downstairs?" Raphael asked.

Michael sighed, "Zachariah."

Raphael nodded, "You have a new client, she's waiting in the conference room. Is that Jim Beam?"

Michael looked at the bottle in his hand, "Yes, it is. I'll be there."

Raphael left the room as Michael set the bottle on his desk, and straightened out his suit before heading over to the conference room.

A pretty red head was sitting at the table, "Hey there, Mr. Big Shot Lawyer." She greeted.

This time when Michael groaned, it was loud and very outwardly, "Hello, Miss." He said, sitting down, "I'm Mr. Cohen, and you are?"

"Charlie Bradbury." The red head introduced, smiling at him.

"Well, Ms. Bradbury, how can I help you?" He asked, leaning on his arm.

"Please, call me Charlie. I'm facing some charges for credit card fraud and stuff, and I need representation." She said.

Michael sighed, and waved his hand, prompting her to go on, listening as she explained the situation.

At the end of the meeting, Michael had accepted her case, though he had no idea why.

Though she had been a bit annoying, the girl didn't seem like she deserved to be in jail. As far as he could tell, her only crime was trying to survive, and he had been there once. _Perhaps_ , he thought as he watched her leave, _that is why I accepted the case._

He trudged back to his office to his phone ringing.

This was going to be a very very long day.

He sat down and poured some of the Jim Beam in his coffee before he picked up the phone, "Hello, you've got Cohen & Barnes Lawfirm, this is Michael Cohen speaking." He said.

◈

As promised, Michael stopped at the store on his way home, picking up an alarm clock, as well as a few other things, such as a new blanket because Hael was complaining about being cold at night, and the cereal that Hannah liked.

Currently, those were sitting abandoned in the back of his car.

He was perched on a bar stool, three beers in, staring at the counter blankly. When he looked up to order another beer, the bar tender who had tried to flirt with him earlier gave him a nasty look, because Michael had not been entirely nice when turning her down, saying something along the lines of, "I'm married and uninterested in picking up bar whores".

Michael was now contemplating what he had become. He used to be light hearted. He used to love his wife, and his job. He used to have friends and a life he looked forward to living. Now, however, that life was a chore. He could hardly bring himself to drag himself out bed, he had fallen out of love with his wife, his job was nothing more than a job. All of his friends had left, and now he was alone. All he had in his life worth living for was his daughter.

He didn't notice the beer that was slammed in front of him.

He was used to it, though, the feeling of being completely and utterly alone. He was in the same place now as he had been when he was growing up. He had honestly hoped to have left that all behind when he met Hannah, but now it looked like he had only locked it away. Now the flood gates had been opened, and he was spiraling back down into that dark place he knew all too well, and one that he didn't really want to revisit. Drowning in his past.

He finally noticed his beer and nursed on that for a while, listening idly to the conversations around him. Usually, especially in a place like this, Michael abhorred any sort of conversation. All he would get from conversation here was drunken blabbering, and a bar fight

Michael was about to order a gin and tonic when his phone rang.

Reluctantly he answered, "Hello, Michael Cohen speaking." He greeted.

"Michael? You need to come to Kindred Hospital. Now. It's Hael." Hannah said.

Michael's heart jumped into his throat, "What about Hael?" He asked, his voice shaking.

"There's been an accident." Hannah whispered.


End file.
